


The Promised Land

by Daeorus



Category: Splatoon
Genre: M/M, More characters to be added as the story goes on - Freeform, Octo Expansion DLC, Octo Expansion DLC Spoilers, Post-Octo Expansion DLC, Post-Splatoon 2, Roommates, Slice of Life, Squidbeak Splatoon, but eventually action-packed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2019-10-10 01:44:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17416604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daeorus/pseuds/Daeorus
Summary: Our story follows Agent 8, right after the events of the Octo-Expansion. How does he integrate into inkling society? Where will he live? What challenges will he face? And what dangers lurk in the depths below the city?(Agents 3 and 8 are boys, agent 4 is a girl)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy it! This is the first fanfiction I have ever posted, so let me know what you think in the comments! I have this marked as a chaptered story, and I intend to keep writing it so long as people don’t totally hate it haha. 
> 
> This is also only marginally proofread by me, so please let me know if you find any typos (sorry if you do, I tried to catch them but I’m sure I missed a few).
> 
> Please feel free to comment! I would love to hear what people think. You don’t even need an account!

It was all just so overwhelming. 

As they sat there, looking at the sunlight as it streamed over Inkopolis and across the bay, all Agent 8 could do was breathe. The air was so much crisper on the surface, and the young octoling couldn’t help but revel in not only the sights, but also the salty ocean breeze. 

It had all happened so quickly, he hadn’t really had time until now to really soak it all up. Now he understood why the Captain had guessed that the “promised land” was here. It really was like nothing he had ever seen before. Granted, his memories only really consisted of the past few weeks and his adventures on the Deepsea Metro. 

He looked over his small group of friends. Yeah, he guessed he could call them that. There was the Captain, the first face he could remember seeing, and a constant companion over the past few weeks. Then there was Pearl and Marina. These two he hadn’t met in person until now, but they had also managed to keep him company, if only through their chats and voices in his ear. He had seen their pictures, but he was still surprised by just how short pearl was. Then there was Agent 3. He hadn’t heard the boy talk yet, but what he’d heard about him from Cap’n Cuttlefish (and experienced firsthand) left him with a healthy dose of apprehension and respect. 

Apart from Agent 3’s injured head, he was surprised they all were as... unscathed as they were after narrowly saving the city. 

It was Marina that broke the silence. “So... it’s nice to finally meet you Eight. In person I mean.” She met his eyes and gave him a soft smile. “You’re gonna love it in Inkopolis, I just know it.”

Eight could feel the truth in her words, the shared experience. Sure, she hadn’t had to climb their way through a hellish machine ran by a crazy AI bent on world domination, but she had still come from the depths. She had still felt the call to the service. 

“Of course he’s gonna love it! He’s been stuck in that dank underground for ages!” Pearl grimaced as she said it, “man, I can’t imagine getting stuck in a place like that.” She turned to the captain, “how about you cap? You happy to be out?”

Cuttlefish shrugged, “honestly, the Deepsea Metro has kinda grown on me. I wonder if there’s a way down there that isn’t through that thing.” He gestured to the wreckage that floated in the water before them. 

Pearl hopped to her feet, though she still wasn’t that much taller, “worry about that later cap. I’m thinking we should head on into the city, get everyone a nice meal on me.”

Marina beamed, “Sounds perfect, I’ll get us going.” The two turned and headed toward the cockpit. 

The captain was soon to follow, chasing after the two while giving his unsolicited restaurant recommendations. Soon it was just Agent 3 and Eight sitting and staring out at the sea below as the helicopter fleet began to make its way back to the city. 

Eight didn’t know if he should say something. He hadn’t said anything to anyone, not even a thank you to Pearl and Marina. For some reason, his voice felt caught in his throat. He glanced over at Agent 3 cautiously, and noticed that the boy was playing nervously with his fingers, his lime green tentacles drooping slightly. If Eight didn’t know any better, he’d say Agent 3 was just as uncomfortable as he was right now. 

With a hard swallow, he forced himself to speak. “Um...” he hated how high pitched his voice sounded, but regardless the second he made a sound, Agent 3’s eyes snapped up and locked with his. “Thanks for the save back there. In the blender I mean.” He awkwardly gestured at Agent 3’s injured head, “s-sorry about that...” his words trailed off and Agent 3 looked down again. 

When he spoke, he didn’t look up. “I’m the one who should be sorry.” 

The words surprised Eight.

“I tried to help, but instead I just made everything way harder for you.”

Eight couldn’t hide the confusion from his face, “you didn’t do anything wrong. You saved my life! And the Captain’s!”

“And then I got all mind controlled and attacked you.”

“So? That wasn’t you. There’s nothing to feel sorry about.” 

Agent 3 gave a small smile, “you shouldn’t say sorry either then.” He gestured at his head, “you may have roughed me up a bit, but you saved me. I’d say we’re even.”

Eight frowned, “but that still doesn’t forgive what I did while I was working for DJ Octavio.” He dug around in his brain, but nothing seemed to surface, “I honestly can’t remember anything before waking up with the captain on the metro, but he said we were fighting. He made it sound like we octarians have caused quite a bit of trouble for you, and all of inkopolis.”

Agent 3 got to his feet. He stood facing Eight, and was a little taller. As Eight eyed him, he noticed that Agent 3 was just slightly bigger than him in general. He wondered if he was just small, or if he was younger. Not for the first time, he found himself frustrated at his lack of memories. Not only did he have no clue how old he was, he didn’t even know his own name! 

“DJ Octavio’s forces have harassed Inkopolis for quite some time to be honest. I first started fighting them two years ago, when I was 14.” He gestured at himself, “I think you octolings are similar, but I know we inklings don’t get this form until we turn 14. Before that, we are far more squid-like. There’s a reason why almost every kid you’re gonna meet in Inkopolis is 14 or older.”

“That must have meant you were super strong, even then!” Eight couldn’t hide the admiration in his voice. 

Agent 3 chuckled, “not really, I was just the only one curious enough to investigate Cap’n Cuttlefish’s call. Everything I learned, I learned through doing.” He gestured at Eight, “you on the other hand, you’re the real deal.”

Eight was confused by that, “whatcha mean?”

Agent 3 sat back down and gestured for Eight to join him. Instead of facing out, they sat facing each other. 

“Do you know what Cap and I were doing before we got separated and this whole mess started?”

Eight shook his head, “I can’t remember anything, not my name, not my age, nothing. The first thing I remember is the captain’s face and a catchy tune playing in the back of my mind.”

Agent 3 gave a sad look, “I’m sorry to hear that, I can’t imagine going through that. You must’ve been so scared.” 

Agent 3’s eye contact was intense. Eight could feel the ink rushing to his face. He internally cursed. He didn’t wanna look silly and bashful in front of Agent 3!

“I-I don’t think it was too bad.” He smiled, trying to defuse his sudden embarrassment, “I had the captain there, plus Marina and Pearl kept me company through chats and stuff.”

Agent 3 smiled, and Eight couldn’t help but find it infectious. “You’re a special kid, you know that right?”

For the second time in a matter of moments, Eight found himself blushing. 

“Before all of this, cap and I were investigating rumors about an elite fighting force Octavio himself was training. It was supposedly his countermeasure against the New Squidbeak Splatoon, and if the rumors were even marginally true, it could mean disaster for Inkopolis.”

Eight sat listening intently. He thought it was kinda cute how much Agent 3 used his hands while he talked. He found his cheeks flushing again at the thought. Ugh, maybe his name was Blush, considering it seemed to be all he was capable of doing. 

“It took us about a month or so to close in on the rumors, but we eventually discovered that they were true.” Agent 3 pointed at Eight, “you were one of his elite fighters.”

Eight was flabbergasted, “I-I was?!”

“Not only were you one of his elite fighters, but you were also the youngest. From what we could tell, almost every fighter was at least 18. Then there was you, fresh-faced and barely 14.”

So at least he knew how old he was now. 

“You’re also the first boy octoling I’ve met, which also might have been relevant. Either way, we knew that among these elite fighters, there was something special about you.”

“Cuz I was young?”

“Cuz you were good enough to be with Octavio’s best, having only just formed your true body. You honestly scared us inkless.” He chuckled, “and now I find out you can speak Inkling perfectly! You really are something special.”

“O-oh.” That was all he could get himself to say. 

“But Needless to say, we all eventually started fighting, I started blasting some sick tunes, you guys started blasting your own tunes, there was a big inksplosion, and...” he gestured all around him, “you know the rest.”

“You...” he paused, then just figured he should just ask directly, “you’re not mad at me cuz of all that?”

Agent 3’s eyebrow raised in confusion, “why would I be? You saved everyone today! Plus you told me you can’t remember. Why would I be mad at you for something that you can’t even remember doing?”

“Do you...” he swallowed, he shouldn’t get his hopes up, “do you happen to know my name?”

Agent 3 frowned, “sorry dude, but I don’t.”

“T-that’s fine, just thought I’d ask is all.”

Agent 3 smiled warmly at Eight and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t get too down little man, You’re Agent 8 of the New Squidbeak Splatoon! I think Eight is a great name for you!”

Eight raised an eyebrow quizzically, “you do? It’s just a number. Mine as well go by 10,008.”

Agent 3 laughed and shook his head. “Think about it though. We inklings came from squids that have ten tentacles. You octolings came from octopuses, which have eight right? It’s kind of on theme, isn’t it?”

Eight laughed, “I guess it is.” He took a deep breath, “so what’s your name? I can’t just keep calling you Agent 3.” He chuckled, but then realization dawned on him and he began to backpedal, “u-unless you don’t feel comfortable sharing with someone like me. I’d understand if you didn’t. I mean I’m a-“

Agent 3 cut him off, “my name’s Rider.” He gave him a big smile, “you need to relax Eight. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve more than proved yourself as a trustworthy friend, and I’m sure the others would agree.”

Agent 3 got to his feet. No, his name was Rider. Eight watched as Rider brushed himself off then extended a hand to help Eight up. 

As Rider helped the other boy to his feet, he continued, “we should probably go join everyone else. Otherwise we won’t get a say in where we go to eat, and personally I’m craving some sushi.”

The two went over to join the others, and as they debated where to eat, Eight zoned out as they flew over the water and neared the city itself. 

The sun was nearly set, but that only made the city even more beautiful to the young octoling. Lights in the tall buildings were clicking on, and the whole city seemed to glow with life and light. He watched as lnklings milled about in the streets, buying food from food trucks and chatting it up amongst friends. If he had to guess, it looked like a hangout for younger inklings, around his age. As he scanned the city he saw older inklings as well, leaving their jobs in office buildings and going out for dinner. The city was just bustling with life. He even saw species other than inklings. Jellyfish tourists were everywhere, but so were anemones, lobsters, horseshoe crabs, and tons of other species. Still, at least from this distance he hadn’t recognized any octolings. It was possible they were there he just hadn’t seen them. Apart from their tentacles and ears, they looked so much like inklings.

“Hey Marina?” The whole group went silent. He hadn’t realized they were talking until they had suddenly stopped. He looked up from the street to find everyone’s eyes on him. He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, “s-sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt...”

Marina gave a big smile and crossed over to him. The others took it as a cue and began debating restaurants again. The two stepped over to the side.

“What is it Eight?” She smiled warmly down at him and placed a comforting hand on his back, “it’s nice to hear your voice by the way. You weren’t much of a talker when you were down on the metro.”

Eight smiled sheepishly, “sorry, I was just kinda focused on getting through it all.” He chuckled a little, “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m still kinda overwhelmed by it all.”

Marina gave him a knowing look, “you’ve handled everything so well, I’m proud of you. I was 16 when I first came up here, and I was so nervous I latched onto the first person to show me kindness.” She glanced over a Pearl, “And even now I’m still with her.” She turned back to Eight, “we’re all here for you okay? You’re already off to a good start. You speak Inkling so well! Plus we’ll make sure no one messes with you.” She gave him a playful wink. 

“Was it hard? Being an octoling I mean?” He looked out across the city again. The sun had set and now the sky’s glow was beginning to dim. They had passed the heart of the city and were now heading toward a small airstrip. “What if people aren’t as nice as you guys?”

She playfully ruffled his tentacle, “you don’t need to worry about those people. We’ve got your back.” She took a deep breath, and put on a bit more serious of a face, “but I’m not gonna lie to you, if people find out what you are, and they definitely will, you might have to put up with a bit of hate. Most people don’t know about DJ Octavio and his attacks on Inkopolis, but they know that historically there’s been conflict with Octarians.” She smiled, “but hey, things are starting to change. Ever since we got the great Zapfish back about a week ago, more and more octolings have been showing up in the city.”

She dug around in her pocket for a piece of paper and quickly wrote something down on it. “Here,” she extended the note to him, “that’s my personal phone number. If you ever need anything, even if it’s just someone to talk to, I’ll be there for you.”

He looked at the note in his hands. He gave a slight nod before folding it up and putting it in his pocket. “Thanks Marina.” He let out a little laugh.

She looked at him questioningly. 

“It’s nothing,” he said with a smile, “I just realized I don’t have a phone,” he stated, “then when I thought of using a public phone to call you, the first thing that popped into my head was that crazy telephone in the metro.”

She smiled back at him, amused “yeah, almost being blended up by a crazy phone would make me a little nervous of them.” She paused, “as for the cellphone situation, I’m sure we can get you one.”

She was starting to turn away, but he found himself wanting to ask her one more thing. “Hey,” she stopped and turned back, “I asked Agent 3,” he paused before correcting himself, “I-I mean Rider. I asked him if he know me before the whole metro thing. If he knew my name. You wouldn’t happen to know it, would you?”

Marina gave him a sad frown, “last time I was down there I was 16. That was two years ago. You would have been what? 12? I didn’t really interact with anyone younger than 14 or so. We were fighting in an army. Anyone younger than that isn’t fully formed.” She gave a sly smile, “There’s no point training someone who’s still more octopus than kid.”

Eight let out a sigh, “I guess that makes sense, I just thought I’d ask.”

“Don’t get so down kiddo,” she ruffled his tentacle again, “you don’t need your past to know who you are. You’re Eight, and you’re great.”

———

Pearl had a limo waiting for them when they landed. Apparently there had been some tension regarding where they were going for their celebratory dinner. As Pearl told the driver the restaurant name, Cap’n Cuttlefish grumbled disapprovingly under his breath. From what Eight could gather, the captain had wanted a manatee burger, but everyone else had wanted sushi. 

With the partition up, they drove through the city toward their destination. It didn’t take long for Eight to realize just how big a presence Pearl and Marina’s band was. Posters for Off the Hook were everywhere, along with advertisements for their news program. 

It was the captain’s words that pulled Eight back to the group. “So, I figured after today I can officially count you two among the members of the New Squidbeak Splatoon, yes?”

He was talking to Marina and Pearl. The two girls looked at each other. 

“Why even ask, you know we’re down!” Pearl responded with a stylish wink. 

Marina smiled warmly, “of course, it’d be an honor Cap’n Cuttlefish.”

“We gotta come up with names for you guys, how about agents 4, “he pointed at Pearl, “and 5.” He then pointed at Marina. 

“Wait, so you just jumped all the way to Eight for Eight here?” Marina asked. 

“It fit with the number that crazy telephone gave him.”

“It’s your splatoon that recovered the great Zapfish the first time, right?” Marina asked. 

“Of course it was! Why, it was Agent 3’s doing! He-“ Cuttlefish stopped himself, “wait, the first time... it was stolen again!?”

Pearl smirked, “you gotta keep up old man! It was missing for a while there, but it was returned about a week ago. I’m guessing your Agents 1 and 2 recovered it.”

The captain stroked his mustache of tentacles, “unlikely. Callie had gone missing. I bet Marie recruited someone knew to save her cousin and the Zapfish.”

Pearl practically choked. “The Squid Sisters are agents 1 and 2!?”

Marina chuckled, “I thought you’d figured that out Pearl. It was their song that made me long for the surface. How else do you think I would’ve heard in while working for Octavio?”

Pearl huffed and folded her arms, but said nothing. 

“I guess we should be Agents 5 and 6 then.” Concluded Marina, “just in case Marie did recruit someone else.”

The captain nodded, “smart thinking Agent 6.”

Marina chuckled. 

By the time they got to the restaurant, their conversation had turned to more trivial things. Eight had only been half listening, but it had seemed as though Pearl and the captain had gotten into another rap battle that had soon dissolved into Pearl giving Cuttlefish pointers. 

The first thing Eight noticed about the restaurant was how expensive it seemed. Second was all the stares they were getting. At first he thought it had been him, but soon he realized it was Pearl and Marina that we’re drawing the attention. Off the Hook really must be... off the hook. He smiled at himself. 

He felt the note with Marina’s personal number on it in his pocket, and couldn’t help but feel even more grateful to her. She wouldn’t have given out her private number lightly. 

They were seated at a large table in a private alcove of the restaurant. As they took their seats, Marina gestured for Eight to sit next to her. “Hey Eight, sit over here,” she gave him a warm smile before saying under her breath, “I’ll help you navigate the menu.”

Soon bustling conversation filled the alcove. They all talked about what dishes they preferred, and whether they should get certain items as sashimi or sushi. Eight paid them no mind as Marina helped him through the menu. 

“For the most part, Inklings eat the same kind of stuff as us.” She pointed at a menu item, “but I’d avoid anything that says ‘tako’ in it.”

He raised a quizzical eyebrow, “Why?”

She shook her head, “Just trust me.”

It didn’t take long for food to arrive, and Eight could have sworn he’d never eaten anything as good. Granted, he only remembered the food on the metro, which mainly consisted of packaged snacks from vending machines at the various stations. 

As they ate, they all chatted about various aspects of Inkopolis. It took Eight a while to warm up, but before long he was actively participating. They talked about fashion and the best places to buy gear. That then led them into a talk about turf wars. Eight was fascinated by the whole thing, listening intently as they explained the various rules and weapons. Cap’n Cuttlefish would chime in every once and a while with a question of his own, but for the most part it was Eight asking most everything. 

By the time they delivered the check, Eight felt like he was going to burst. He hadn’t realized just how tired he was, but now that his stomach was full, he felt partially comatose. It had been an insanely long, and insanely stressful day. 

“So I guess this is where we part ways.” Said Pearl with a sigh, “it’s been one crazy rollercoaster of a day.”

The group chuckled lightly in agreement.

“Where does everybody live? I’ll have my driver drop everyone off.”

Both the captain and Rider gave Pearl their addresses, and she shot out a quick text, presumably to the limo driver. 

She then turned toward Eight, not looking up from her phone, “and you...” she trailed off, as it dawned on her and the rest of the group. Eight didn’t have anywhere to go. 

“He can stay with me.” It was Rider who piped up, “my parents got me a private apartment near downtown. It’s not the biggest, but neither is Eight. I’ve got more than enough room.”

Eight smiled sheepishly, “That’s be great, sorry.”

Rider rolled his eyes, “stop saying sorry dude! It’s not like I’m gonna just let my friend sleep on the streets!”

“It’s settled then.” Said Pearl, matter of fact, “I’ll set my family’s men on finding a sick apartment for you Eight, but in the meantime you can stay with Rider.”

———

Rider’s apartment was small and cluttered. Eight could tell that no one had been here in a while. A thin layer of dust took the gleam off of the laminate counter. The small kitchenette was attached to the living room, where a couch sat facing a small tv. There was a door to the right and another to the left. A window on the far side of the room let in light from the city. Clothes lay here and there across the room, and below the window lay a pile of what Eight could only reason were weapons. Probably for turf wars. In all honesty, Eight was only taking in the barest if information. He was practically asleep on his feet. 

“Sorry about the mess.” Rider said as he rubbed his hands together nervously. “I wasn’t expecting company.” He went over to the couch and grabbed the clothes off it. “It’s small, but it’s home.”

He went over to the door on the right and tossed the clothes inside. 

“This room’s my bed, bathroom’s on the other side. Help yourself to any food you find. I’ve been gone for a while so some of it might be expired...” He trailed off, visibly uncomfortable.

Eight gave him a kind smile, “thanks for letting me stay with you.”

Rider’s anxiety washed away, “of course dude.” He went into his bedroom and emerged a few moments later with a pillow and a blanket. He set them on the sofa. “You can sleep on the couch, if that’s alright.”

“I’ve been sleeping on metro benches, so it’s more than alright.” 

“Okay cool.” 

“Cool.”

The two stood there for a moment in awkward silence. 

“I-I think I’m gonna head to bed.” Eight finally said, “I’m honestly about ready to pass out.”

“Oh!” Rider responded, “yeah sure, go for it. I’m probably gonna putter around a bit, call my parents and let them know I’m okay and stuff.” He smiled softly, “I’ll keep it down.”

Eight had already popped off his shoes and curled up under the blanket, “g’night” he mumbled, already starting to drift off. 

———

Rider switched off the lights in the living room and went into his bedroom. The room was small, with a double bed, a closet, a bedside table, and a small desk for doing his schoolwork. After he closed the door, he went over to his bedside table and pulled his phone out from inside. 

He had learned the hard way that it was best to leave his phone at home when he went on missions for the Squidbeak Splatoon. When he first started, he had ended up breaking three phones in two months. His parents were not happy. 

He rubbed his tired eyes. His parents were gonna kill him. He had made up some dumb excuse about a special school class he was in that had a ton of field trips in order to cover his activity in the Splatoon, but he knew that his parents only had to make a simple call to the school to find out it was a total lie. This last mission had been over summer break, so at least he wouldn’t have a ton of schoolwork to catch up on. 

As his phone powered on, he stripped out of his dirty clothes and slid on an oversized t-shirt. Man, he needed to do laundry. He still couldn’t believe he had impulsively invited Eight to stay with him. His place was a wreck! Just thinking about it gave him a whole new wave of anxiety and embarrassment. He was lucky that Eight was too tired to really notice. 

Once his phone was on, he checked the date. Sure enough, it had been about a month since he had left. He groaned. He had told them he was going out of town, but a month was pushing their patience he knew. 

Accepting his imminent death, he pressed his mom’s contact. 

The phone rang three times before his mom’s voice picked up on the other side. 

“Rider honey? Is that you?”

“Hey mom...”

He heard his mom call into the other room, “your father’s here so I’m gonna put you on speaker sweetie.”

“Sure.”

“Rider? Is that you young man?” It was his father’s voice this time. 

“Yes dad.”

“When you said you were going out of town, we didn’t expect it would be this long! I have half a mind to call that school of yours-“

“No! No! Mom it’s fine!” He had to think of an excuse fast, “my friends and I extended the trip. It was my fault, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you guys but my phone didn’t have reception.” He knew it was a bad excuse, but hopefully they’d accept it. 

“Rider,” it was his dad. In his _I expected better_ voice, “we would’ve let you hang out with your friends, but you have to communicate!” He huffed through the phone, “your mother and I were about to call the school and the police! The new term starts in two days!”

“I know dad-“

“You know what? I know that class is a great opportunity, but I don’t think your mother and I feel comfortable with you going on these trips if you can’t handle them responsibly.”

Rider took a deep, exhausted breath. He new better than to argue with his parents when they got like this. He’d give them a week or so to cool down before making his case. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you guys worry.”

His mom spoke next, “we love you sweetie, and we want you to be safe.”

“You had us worried that maybe a salmonid got you, or possibly even an Octarian!”

Rider laughed awkwardly, “c’mon dad, you know I’m no where near either of those right?”

“I hear the kids out in the city now are working shifts for some new company collecting Salmonid eggs. Please promise me you won’t do something that foolish.” His mother’s voice had a pleading nature to it, as if she knew Rider would do it anyway. 

In all honesty, he probably would, but he wasn’t gonna tell her that. “I won’t mom, I promise.”

Not wanting to just keep lying to his parents, he stayed with mock alarm, “shoot, I didn’t realize how late it is, I’ll talk to you guys later okay?”

“Get some sleep Rider,” it was his father, “I know you like those turf wars, but try and get some rest before the new term starts. Squiddington Academy is a wonderful opportunity for you, and you have to remember you’re in Inkopolis for school, not for turf wars and pop music.”

Rider rolled his eyes, “I know dad, my grades come first.”

After a brief exchange of ‘I love you’s and ‘goodnight’s, Rider finally hung up. 

He let out a heavy breath as he rubbed his eyes. He hated lying to his parents, but if they knew what he actually did they’d die of worry. No, it sucked but it was better this way. 

He untied his tentacles from their ponytail and rubbed his head gingerly where it had been injured by that insane Commander Tartar. He’s be lying if he said he didn’t still have a headache. 

Quietly, he made his way across the living room to the bathroom. He opened the mirror cabinet and pulled out some pain relievers. He gulped down two pills before heading off to bed. 

While crossing back through the living room, he couldn’t help but check on Eight. The kid was fast asleep, curled into a tight ball on his side, taking up no more than a single cushion on the couch. Eight was a cute squiddo – Rider caught himself – no, he wasn’t a squiddo, he was a Octo Kiddo. Rider frowned, that didn’t have quite the ring _squid kid_ or _squiddo_ did. 

He imagined going through everything Eight had gone through at 14. Sure, Rider had fought off DJ Octavio and recovered the great Zapfish, but that paled in comparison to what Eight had to face. To make matters worse, Rider had at least had a loving family to come home to. Eight was alone in a brand new world. 

No, he wasn’t alone, he had the Squidbeak Splatoon, and he had Rider. It was funny, Rider found himself filled with a fierce protectiveness for the little octoling curled up on his couch. He smiled softly. 

“Welcome home, Eight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this! I love the world of Splatoon and thought it would be a fun setting to explore and try and build more realism (if that’s the right word) into. 
> 
> As for some of the diet-related lines in this piece, I was poking around online to see what people thought Inklings might eat. Most people agreed on seafood and sea-themed versions of our food, but I was very intrigued when I ran across someone saying that a lot of squid species are cannibals. While that was a bit too dark of a direction for me, I do remember seeing concept artwork and what not of Inklings serving octopus. While I see nothing wrong with an inkling eating normal squid or octopus, it made me wonder if inklings might eat octarians... I purposely left it vague as to whether or not they do. What do you guys think? I can’t imagine any inkling with a heart eating an octoling, but what about normal octarians?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter two! I ended it a little early than I had originally planned, but if I had gone to where I had first thought, the chapter would’ve been monstrously long. 
> 
> Again, it’s only been proofread by me, so let me know if you catch any typos.

Eight awoke to the sound of the front door opening. 

Groggily, he opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows, peering down from the couch at the door. 

He saw Rider there, his chest bare and his tentacles down. He wore a towel around his waist. Eight guessed he had just gotten out of the shower. Rider bent over and picked up a small package. He eyed the package curiously as he turned to close the door. 

He glanced at Eight after reading the package label, and when their eyes met he gave a sheepish smile, “sorry, I was trying to be quiet and let you sleep.” He chuckled, “you were _out_ earlier.”

Eight yawned and sat fully up, “thanks again for letting me stay with you.”

Rider shook his head as he came over and plopped down on the other end of the couch. “Dude,” he playfully shook Eight’s knee, “you gotta stop thanking me!”

Eight laughed, “sorry.” He couldn’t help but glance at Rider’s bare chest. He was thin of course, nearly every Inkling and octoling was, but there was an undeniable layer of lean muscle. Eight quickly found himself blushing. 

Rider gently tossed the package over to him. If he had noticed Eight’s flushes cheeks, he didn’t act like it. Eight caught the package and sat cross legged facing Rider. 

“It’s for you.” Said Rider, “it looks like it’s from Pearl.”

Eight gently popped the tape and opened it to reveal a brand new phone, black and rounded at the top as opposed to the typical white arrow shape of most phones. Eight couldn’t help but think it reminded him more of an octopus than the usual squid. He pulled out the phone and saw a small note below it. He pulled it out with his other hand and read it. 

_Hey Eight, you stayin’ fresh over with Rider? Marina told me you didn’t have a phone, so I got my daddy to get ya one. I made him get you the newer version of the same one I got Marina back in the day. I put my number and cap’s in the contacts._

_-M C Princess_

_P.S.: you left your gun and ink tank in the limo. They were a bit too big to send ya, so I’ll give them to ya when I see ya next._

“Pearl gave me a phone...” he said, incredulously. 

“Dude! That’s awesome! Let me see it!”

Eight handed Rider his phone, and with a few rapid-fire taps, he lifted it for a selfie. After a few more taps, he handed the phone back. “There you go, now I’m in there too.” He pointed at his contact. 

Eight saw Rider’s name and the small little contact photo he snapped.

“You better not show anyone that pic.” Said Rider playfully, “I’m doing an ugly face and I’m all shirtless with my tentacles down.” He got to his feet, “speaking of, I should probably get changed. I’ll dig around and see if I can find any clothes that might fit you. Feel free to hop in the shower if ya want.”

Eight nodded. As Rider closed his door, Eight turned his attention back to his phone. He pulled out Marina’s note and quickly put her number in as well.

He shot her a quick text: _hey, this is Eight. Pearl got me a phone._

Almost immediately, he saw the little bubble pop up on screen that meant Marina was typing.

_Hey Eight! I hope you had a good night sleep! Pearl and I are getting ready for our news show! You getting along with Rider alright?_

Eight smiled, _totally! He’s super awesome!_

Marina sent back a laughing emoji, _that’s great to hear._

Another bubble popped up below her message, _let me know if you catch a cold or anything in the next few days. I remember I got shella sick when I first came to Inkopolis. Your body might need some time to adjust._

Eight typed his reply. _I’m feeling fine, but I’ll be sure to let you know if I start feeling bad._ He finished the sentence with a thumbs up emoji. 

_I gotta run, but we’ll talk later k?_

Again, he sent a thumbs up emoji. 

When no new message appeared, Eight went back to Rider’s contact and clicked open the photo. As it went full screen, Eight couldn’t help but laugh. Rider had given an overdramatic wink, and while he would say it was ugly, Eight couldn’t help but think Rider looked kinda cute. For the second time in a matter of minutes, he felt ink rush to his face. 

———

“It’s a little big, but not terribly,” Rider eyed Eight up and down, “that’s what I wore when I first came here to Inkopolis. It’s the only thing small enough to fit you, even if it’s a little long.”

Eight looked at himself in the mirror on the back of the bathroom door. He had on a yellow shirt, white shoes, and a sweatband around his head. The shirt was a little baggy, and the shoes probably about a half size too big, but it was still better than strutting around in octoling military gear. “It’s perfect.”

He compared himself to what Rider was wearing. He had a pair of metal pilot’s goggles resting on his head, and was wearing a red hoodie and a pair of slim rainbow sneakers. All in all, he looked pretty great. 

“We’ll get you some better gear after a turf war or two.” Rider dug around in the pile of weapons and pulled out a small square gun. “This is my old splattershot jr. you can use this till you get fresh enough to get something better.”

Eight raised an eyebrow, “fresh enough?”

“Any shop selling clothes or weapons even marginally worth their coin won’t sell to people who haven’t at least started to get into the groove of the city.” Rider gave a lopsided smile, “pretty much, if you ain’t fresh, you ain’t welcome.”

Eight frowned, “that seems kinda mean.”

“Nah,” Rider waved Eight’s comment away, “there’s a ton of shops if you want normal clothes, but these shops give you gear that helps you in turf wars. They want their stuff represented! You wouldn’t want your stuff on some kid who wouldn’t even use it as it’s meant to be used.”

“I-I guess that makes some sense.”

Rider paused and eyed Eight up and down. 

“W-what?” 

“Hold on a sec.” Rider turned back into his bedroom. Eight could hear the boy rummaging around before he came out holding what looked like a lime green baseball cap. He handed it over to Eight. “Here, try this instead of that sweatband.”

As soon as Eight’s fingers curled around the bill of the hat, it shifted to match the dark pink of his own ink color. “Woah,” he eyed the hat, “that’s awesome!” 

Rider smiled as Eight pulled off the sweatband and slid on the cap. As he looked at himself in the mirror, Rider reached out and twisted the cap around so that the bill would be facing the back. “There you go, that looks better.”

Eight smiled at Rider’s reflection, “I’m not the biggest fan of hats, but if you think it looks good then I’ll wear it.”

Rider’s smile faltered, “look dude, I’m gonna be real with you. I’m not sure how people are gonna react to you being an octoling. I don’t think it’ll be an issue for most people, but I think it’s best if we cover that tentacle of yours until you start making a name for yourself around town.”

Eight’s excitement wavered, “O-oh, y-yeah. That makes sense.” He looked at himself in the mirror again. At first glance he guessed he could probably pass as an inkling if no one paid too much attention to his ears.

“C’mon, I’ll take you down to the square.”

———

Inkopolis Square was nothing like anywhere Eight had ever been before. Kids were everywhere. In fact, Eight didn’t see a single adult inkling. There were also quite a few jellyfish. Rider had explained how Inkopolis was a massive travel destination, and how most of the jellyfish were tourists. 

Shops lined the left side of the street, and the right had an arcade and... was that Pearl and Marina!?

Rider followed Eight’s gaze and smirked, “yeah, that’s where they host their news show. It’s geared mainly toward us kids. They mostly just announce stuff about turf wars.”

He pointed toward the large building at the end of the street. “That’s where we’re headed. It’s the turf war lobby. They’ll bus us out from there to the turf war locations. They’re all around the city.”

The whole thing was rather overwhelming. Eight let himself be pulled through the square by Rider. As they passed a food truck, Eight caught a whiff of fried seafood. 

In the turf war lobby, Eight watched as Rider clicked options on a touch screen in the flashing wall. The room itself pulsed with lights, in rhythm with music that was pumping through unseen speakers. 

“Here we go,” began Rider, as he finished tapping on the screen, “I signed us up for a normal turf war, on the same team together.” He smiled at Eight, “this is gonna be so lit!”

Shortly after Rider finished, a door slid open in the back of the room, and the two exited the lobby to board a train. 

They squeezed onto a packed metro, and Eight found himself crammed into a train car crowded with young inklings in all sorts of strange clothes, carrying all manner of ink weapons. Both Rider and Eight were forced to stand near the door, using the poles next to them for support.

“I thought you said we would take a bus to the arena, or whatever it’s called.” Said Eight loudly.

Rider gave a shrug, “sometimes it’s a bus, other times it’s a train. I think they’ve started trying to pick locations with better public transportation access.”

“Makes sense.” Eight eyed the car, “anyone here you-“

“Rider!?” A girl’s voice cut through Eight’s words.

The two turned to see an inkling with long orange tentacles, a white shirt, and pink sneakers. She snaked her way through the crowd until she was standing before them. 

“What!? It totes is you!” She gave him a tight hug, “I haven’t seen you in a while! I figured you’d show up sometime before school starts.” Only then did her eyes fall on Eight, “oh, hey, I didn’t see ya there for a moment.” She looked back at Rider, raising a playful eyebrow, “don’t tell me you disappeared only to pick up a stray?”

Rider laughed awkwardly, “This is my new roommate, Eight. I’m taking him out on his first turf war.”

“Tell me Eight, he still as messy as always?”

“Um...” Eight didn’t know what to say. 

“The name’s Angela,” she gestured at Rider, “I’m in the same grade as Rider. We both go to Squiddington Academy.”

Eight raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Angela gasped in mock shock, “Eight my squiddo, you live with the Academy’s golden boy and you don’t even know that the Academy is?” She smirked.

“Of course he knows about the academy!” Shot back Rider defensively, “in fact, he’s starting there this term.”

Angela smirked. Eight had a feeling she knew Rider was lying, “well then, I look forward to seeing you two around campus.“ with that, she twirled around and made her way back through the throngs of people to wherever she had been before. 

Rider gave a tired sigh, “sorry about her.”

Eight shrugged, “she called me _squiddo_ ” he smiled, trying to lighten the mood, “I guess I look pretty normal, huh?”

Rider was only half listening, “Angela and I used to date. Ever since I broke it off with her she’s been all weird and competitive like this.”

Eight felt his chest tighten unexpectedly, “oh! So you like her?”

Rider scoffed, “used to, but she’s just so competitive about everything! I have better grades than her in _one_ class and she still can’t get over it.” He rubbed his eyes, “let’s just say that it kinda grated on me over time and eventually I just, broke it off. But ever since then it’s just gotten worse.”

“Why’d you say I was going to school with you?”

“I-I panicked.” He said sheepishly, “though honestly it’s not a terrible idea. It’d totally help you learn way more about Inkopolis!” And idea popped into his head, “not to mention that we might even be able to get you in on scholarship! The school loves advertising it’s diversity, and I’m sure they’d have a field day with you.”

Eight felt his face flush, “I’m really not that special.”

Rider rolled his eyes, “you literally saved the entire world, and me, I’d say that makes you shella special.”

Eight glanced up at the bandage still attached to the side of Rider’s tentacles, “how’s your head by the way?”

Rider gingerly prodded the small bandages. “A little sore, but not too bad. My headache’s gone, so that’s good.”

Soon the train came to a stop and the doors opened on their destination. A large sign overhead read _Inkblot Art Academy_. Eight could hear the commotion of a fight somewhere out of sight. 

Eight followed Rider over to one side, where a table sat manned by an older inkling. He watched with interest as the man examined everyone’s weapons, one by one. He then directed the inklings in one of two directions. 

Eventually it was their turns. The two placed their weapons on the table, Eight’s splattershot Jr. and Rider’s normal splattershot. After a quick exam, the two were returned their weapons and sent to the left. 

“Looks like we’re gonna be purple today.” Rider nodded in the direction they were sent, “we’ve got a few matches ahead of us, but it shouldn’t be too long of a wait.”

The two went over to a small waiting area. A screen displayed names in groups of four. Rider and Eight were in the third group. 

“While we wait we mine as well introduce ourselves to our teammates.”

Eight nodded in agreement. 

It didn’t take long for them to find the other two members of their team. Standing to one side of the waiting area were a boy and a girl. The boy wore a collared shirt and glasses, and had the remnants of his purple tentacles close to his head in a buzz cut. He was holding a massive ink roller. He was talking to a girl with short yellow tentacles covered by a knitted yellow beanie, she wore a black t-shirt with some logo in it that Eight didn’t recognize. He guessed her hat and the boy’s shirt had the same kind of tech in it as the hat he was wearing, where it changed to match the wearer’s ink color. She was holding a small pair of guns. 

As they approached, the two turned to face them. The girl raised one side of her mouth in a smile, while the boy beamed over to them. 

“You must be our other two teammates.” Said the boy jovially, “The name’s Andrew, but my friends call me Andy.”

“I’m Bailey,” said the girl with a nod hello, “we were just introducing ourselves to each other.”

“Well I’m Rider and this here is Eight.” He gestured at Eight with his thumb. 

“I take it this is your first turf war?” Asked Bailey. 

Eight nodded, “how could you tell?”

“You seem a little shy,” she smiled at him before walking over and giving him a pat on the back, “nothing to be afraid of. I only got here about a month ago, and I’ve already settled into the groove of things.”

“Same here!” Chimed in Andy. 

“So what do ya guys main? Andy’s a roller guy. I’ve got experience with pretty much everything, but I’m using my dualies today.”

“I’m just using the traditional splattershot. Eight’s borrowing my splattershot jr. till he can get something else from Sheldon.”

“Oh man, the junior sucks!” Groaned Andy, “rollers and brushes are the way to go man.”

“I hear the junior is a good starting weapon.” Said Eight defensively. 

“It is, but you’ll grow out of it pretty fast.” Bailey gestured at Eight’s yellow shirt. “That looks a little big for you dude.”

Eight blushed, “o-oh, um... it is kinda big... it’s Rider’s actually.”

“He’s my new roommate. He didn’t have any turf war gear, just regular clothes. It’s a little big, but I let him borrow mine from when I was his age.”

“Oh? You a veteran turf war guy? Were you playing back when the Squid Sisters hosted the news?” Asked Bailey.

“Sure was!” Said Rider happily, “I like Off the Hook, but I’ll always have a soft spot for Callie and Marie.”

“I only just learned who they are, but I really dig their stuff, especially Calamari Inkantation.” Chatted Bailey.

Andy rolled his eyes, “that song was so two years ago.”

“They just came out with a remix actually. It’s pretty dope.”

Rider raised an eyebrow, “they did? I thought they were focusing on solo careers.”

“They were, but right around when the great Zapfish showed back up they released a remix.” Explained Bailey. 

Andy scratched his head, “Dude, where does the zapfish keep going anyway? Hasn’t it disappeared like, twice now?” 

Rider frowned, “I didn’t know the zapfish disappeared again.”

“Yeah, I bet it was those gross octarians again.” Bailey scowled.

Eight could feel his chest tighten as Rider spoke, “again? What makes you think the first one had anything to do with Octarians?” Eight could tell Rider was trying to get the topic off of Octarians, partially to keep his own cover as Agent 3, but also for Eight. “They just stay in that valley of theirs.”

Bailey scoffed, “yeah, _sure_. They hate Inklings! I feel like stealing the Zapfish is exactly what they’d do.”

Andy gave a mock yawn, “this conversation is so exciting,” he said in a monotone, “who cares about Octarians or whatever. It’s not like we’re ever gonna see one, so it really doesn’t matter.”

“That’s the funny thing though,” began Bailey, lowering her voice, “people are saying they’ve seen octolings around Inkopolis! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they’re trying to infiltrate.” She crossed her arms, “as far as I’m concerned, the only Octarian I’m okay with seeing in Inkopolis is Marina, but that’s only cuz she’s proved herself.”

“Proved herself?” It was Eight who asked. He could feel the anxiety in his chest tightening even more. 

“Well, she’s obviously successful. I feel like if she was infiltrating she would’ve turned on us by now.” Bailey shrugged, “Plus her music is lit.”

Before they could talk further, they were called over by an adult inkling. She directed them over to a machine that one by one provided them with an ink canister. Eight watched as his teammates clicked them onto their backs, and the color of their tentacles gradually shifted to purple. Andy was lucky enough that his ink was already naturally purple. 

Eight gingerly slid on his own canister, and felt the usual prick as the canister linked itself to his body’s natural ink production system. A strange tingling sensation coursed through his body, and once it passed, he had a feeling his ink had also changed to purple. 

As they walked toward their starting area for the turf war, Rider leaned over and spoke quietly to Eight. “These ink canisters have changed our ink color, but also synced is with our home base respawn point. So long as you’re still attached to this,” he tapped the canister on Eight’s back with a soft metallic clink, “you won’t die when you splat.”

“What if I’m not attached to it?” 

“There’s a reason why you can’t really take them off without help.” He paused, “your old one was like that too right? I remember the Cap’n helping you take it off in the limo. We used much the same tech whenever we could in Octo Valley, but it wasn’t all the time.”

Eight nodded, “I think the same was true for Kamabo Corp. There were quite a few times I failed a test and was splatted, but I’m still here so...”

Eight knew how lucky he was to have escaped from Commander Tartar. The whole climb out of the metro he didn’t have access to any respawn points, he was just thankful he didn’t end up getting splatted by any of the crazy corrupted Octarians, or even Rider!

The four stopped in front of a purple launchpad that would send them into the arena. A TV screen was positioned in front of the pad, showing the results of the previous turf war. 

“Looks like we got here just in time.” Smirked Bailey. 

They watched as results faded from view and the team lists for the next turf war popped up. Sure enough, the purple team listed all four of their names.

“Oh no,” sighed Rider heavily. Eight followed his eyes toward the list of names for the opposing green team. 

“We’re playing against Angela and her squad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will finally have some action, I swear. Please feel free to leave a kudos if you like the piece, and comments are more than welcome, they’re encouraged! I would love to know what people think.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, let me know if you catch any typos.

The Promised Land 3

With a buzz, the turf war began. Eight watched for a fraction of a second as the other members of the purple team catapulted themselves off of the respawn point and rushed into the heart of the battlefield. Eight quickly pulled out his splattershot jr. and began coating the ground by their home base in shiny purple ink. 

He watched as his teammates splattered their ink across the floor during their mad dash. Eight thought of diving into the ink and swimming to catch up, but stopped at the last minute. 

He was so used to fighting. This was different. His goal wasn’t to splat the other team, it was to cover the most ground. 

He turned away from the large pool of purple and began to systematically coat the areas around the respawn with ink. 

Eventually, he found himself heading down a narrow passageway to the left. He saw a large open area at the end of the passage, just below a drop of a couple feet. He splattered the path with his ink and proceeded down to the open area. 

Once he dropped down off the ledge, he saw that he was most likely on the leftmost side of the arena. He advanced into the open area, coating the ground. A pool of water sat to his left, and to his right, the rest of the arena stretched before him, slightly higher than the area he was in now. 

What he saw was mayhem. Eight could just make out the devastation wrought by an enemy splashdown that had appeared to have splatted at least one of his teammates. To say they were being slaughtered would be an understatement. 

He didn’t have much time to soak up the scene however. A boy on the green team wearing a motocross helmet quickly zeroed in on Eight. He dove into the ink to his side, just narrowly avoiding the blast from the boy’s charger. 

He swam as fast as he could, directly at the boy. He had hopped down to the open area that Eight was in, and was charging up a second shot. He had to be quick about this. 

He emerged from the ink just long enough for the boy to fire yet again. Eight felt the stinging burn as the green ink splattered across his right arm. 

The boy seemed confident. However, confidence couldn’t save him from Eight. After a quick dive back into his purple ink, Eight launched himself out of it, gun poised and firing. The boy was splatted before Eight’s feet even touched the ground. 

Eight quickly covered over the green ink that the boy had spread before swimming up to the center area of the arena. Eight heard the superjump notification, but didn’t bother to turn around. Apparently he was about to get backup. 

A sound from his left alerted him to danger. A girl with a roller was advancing on him. He had to think fast. Whoever was coming to join him would be splatted right away if he didn’t take care of this threat. 

All his battle instincts kicked in. He might not have been able to remember whatever combat training he had received in the octarian military, but his muscles did. 

Without thinking, he jumped to the right and planted a foot firmly on the wall of a pillar in the center of the battlefield. He kicked off and spiraled in the air, soaring over the incoming roller. He extended his arm and planted his splattershot jr in the center of the surprised girl’s chest. In one pointblank shot, she splatted into a burst of purple. 

“What the shell?!” He heard a voice say behind him. His heart skipped a beat as he turned to see Bailey. Apparently she had been the one jumping to his position. Had he been too aggressive? He hadn’t meant to be. “That was freakin’ insane!” A smirk on her face helped to wash away his anxiety, “if this is your first turf war, then how’d you do that?!”

Thankfully, another green enemy appeared before Eight could answer. It was the boy with the charger from before. 

In tandem, Bailey and Eight dove in opposite directions. The boy didn’t stand a chance as the two flanked him and sent him flying back to his respawn point. 

Eight heard a splash as Rider landed next to them, having super jumped to their location. 

“The fight’s almost over,” he breathed heavily, “but we can still win this if we work fast!”

The two nodded and quickly began coating the ground. Eight saw Andy across the battlefield, rolling his ink across the ground. He met eyes with Eight and gave him a happy thumbs up. 

Then he exploded. 

Behind him stood the girl with the roller from before. 

“Heads up, here comes Angela.” He heard Rider say, and suddenly Eight recognized the girl. 

She came barreling toward them as another of her teammates, who Eight had only just noticed, laid down a suppressive fire across the field. 

“I’ll get her teammate, I’m closer to her.” Called Rider.

“Leave the roller to us,” smirked Bailey. 

The two of them squared off as Angela charged. As she closed in, Eight saw Bailey falter out of the corner of his eye. 

“Oh no, look at her tentacles...”

Sure enough, Eight saw that they were glowing with green energy. 

“Move! She’s gonna smash us!”

Eight watched in awe as Angela jumped into the air between them. It was only then that his feet decided to move. With all his might, he dove to the side as the sphere of green ink began to form. 

With a rush, he felt the force of the splashdown slam into his back. He felt himself hit the ground and roll, having only narrowly escaped the explosion. His vision was blurred with the sting of enemy ink dripping down his face, but he was still in the game. 

He floundered, searching for his gun as a large green roller came into view. His fingers wrapped around the grip just in time. 

He quickly got his legs under himself and coiled them, ready to vault over the roller and strike at Angela once again. However, his instincts stopped him just in time. 

She raised her roller, anticipating the jump. Instead, Eight dove forward on his stomach. He felt the uncomfortable burn as he splashed, belly first, into green ink, but he didn’t care he held his gun blindly pointed out and up in front of him. 

A loud whistle blared through the arena, just as he felt the tip of his gun bump into the soft flesh of Angela’s abdomen. The turf war was over. 

Eight slowly blinked the ink out of his eyes. He looked up at Angela, and noticed that her roller was only a hair’s width from the small of his back. One more moment, and they would’ve splatted each other. 

Angela let out an impressed breath as she swung her roller off to the side and extended a hand to Eight with a smile. She hefted the small boy to his feet. “man, I never thought the first octoling I’d meet would kick my butt so throughly.”

Fear gripped Eight’s heart. He glanced around and saw his hat lying in a puddle of green ink. It must’ve been blown off in the splashdown blast. 

“What the shell is this?” Eight recognized the voice of Bailey, “you’re one of them!?”

Eight looked around Angela, and suddenly wished he hadn’t. There stood Bailey, a white-knuckled grip on her duelies. Her face was contorted into a look of pure rage.

She advanced on him, “no wonder you’re so good at fighting! I thought when you splatted her it was a weird technique, now I realize it’s cuz you were trying to splat her for good!”

Eight was at a loss for words, “I-I d-didn’t mean anything by it!” He stammered as he looked up at Angela, pleading, “I swear!”

Angela turned to face Bailey with a frown, “what’s your problem?”

Bailey stopped, confused, “what? Me!? He’s the crazy one! He’s the terrorist!”

Angela shifted her stance to be between Bailey and Eight, still facing Bailey. She kept one arm behind her, as if to shelter Eight. Her other gripped her roller tightly. “You need to calm down.” Her words were calm but forceful. 

“How can you be defending him and his kind!? He just tried to kill you!”

She scoffed, “You seem to forget that we try and splat each other during turf wars.”

Eight heard a patter of feet off to the side, and soon Rider came into view. “Woah Bailey, cool it.” He held both his hands up defensively.”

She whirled around, aiming at him with her dualies. “You! You knew the whole time! You’re just as bad as him!”

Angela gripped her roller with both hands, holding it out toward Bailey. “And now you’re threatening my friend.” Angela glared at Bailey, “missy, you better get that temper of yours under control, or I’ll do it for you.”

Rider continued to hold his hands up, “just walk away Bailey.”

Bailey looked between the three of them, before settling on Eight. “I’m on to you and you’re kind, don’t think I’m not. I’ve already stopped you once, and I’ll do it again.” With that, she stormed off, shoving Rider out of the way as she went. 

As soon as she was gone, the three let out a collective breath they all hadn’t realized they were holding. 

Angela was the one to speak first. “You should’ve told me the little guy was an octoling.” She said to Rider with a playful smile before turning to face Eight, “you’re name was some number, three or-“

“His name’s Eight.”

Angela dismissed Rider with a wave, “yes yes, Eight. That’s what I said.” She placed her hand on Eight’s small shoulder, “listen here Eight, and listen good. Some people are just crazy. Little miss tantrum is one of them. When their small worldview is challenged, they lash out. What matters is you don’t let them get to ya.” She turned to look at Rider, “I take it he’s not actually enrolled in Squiddington Academy?”

Rider smiled sheepishly. 

Angela rolled her eyes, “unlike someone,” she glanced over at Rider, “I can actually get you enrolled. My mom’s a teacher there, so it shouldn’t be too hard. Once I tell her you’re an octoling, they’ll accept you for sure.”

Eight looked between the two of them, “I-is that a good idea though? Going to school I mean? What if-“

“Listen here squiddo-“ Angela paused, “I guess I can’t call you squiddo, can I?”

Eight laughed and rubbed the back of his head nervously, “I don’t really care.”

“No,” she said forcefully, “you’re not a squid. It’d be rude to call you one. Octokid doesn’t have the same ring to it, unfortunately.” She smirked, “looks like I’m just gonna have to call you Hops.”

“Hops?” Asked Eight, “why not just use my name?”

“She loves her pet names.” Said Rider with an eye roll.

Angela continued, as if she hadn’t heard Rider, “I’m calling you Hops cuz you’ve got mad jumps. You practically bounced all over the battlefield!” She shoot the thought from her head, “but as I was saying, Squiddington Academy is a great place for you. I take it you’re new to inkling society, so it’s the best place for you to learn and make friends!” She smirked, “plus both the school’s star pupils have your back, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Rider let out a sigh. “C’mon Eight, we gotta get going. They need to prep for the next turf war.” Rider turned to Angela, “thanks for sticking up for him.”

Angela gave the two of them a playful smile, “of course! He’s your roommate after all.” She laughed to herself, “ now that I think about it, maybe he is a little crazy. You’d have to be to live with you.”

Rider rolled his eyes, “ha ha Angela, always so kind.”

She looked back at Eight, “Rider and I have each other’s numbers. I’ll be in touch about the whole school thing.”

“T-thanks Angela,” Eight smiled softly, “for everything.”

“Of course Hops, anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting. I came back to the website and saw the super kind comments and it totally motivated me to finish the chapter, so thanks a ton! I always love hearing what people think.
> 
> I know the chapter is a little short, it just seemed like a good place to end it. My chapters definitely vary in length, but it’s mainly because of where I feel there are natural places for a chapter break.


	4. The Promised Land — Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but I’m finally back! Here’s a little interlude to hold you over. I promise we’ll be back to Eight and the gang in the next chapter, which I’m aiming for posting sometime in the next 2 weeks. 
> 
> As per usual, I’m my own editor and proof reader, so let me know if there are typos or what not.

The Promised Land — Interlude

Adam sighed in frustration as he pulled his foot free from a glob of orange ink. Sure the company he worked for got a pretty hefty bonus by letting the squiddos run around and splat each other during off hours, but Port Mackerel is first and foremost a prominent shipping yard. Whoever’s in charge of organizing those little “splat wars” or whatever the teens called them does a good job of picking up after themselves, but every once and a while they’d miss a spot. 

Sure ink dissolved on its own after a while, but the salty sea air sometimes made patches take longer for the little microbes to fully digest. Or at least that was Adam’s theory. 

He scraped his boot along the side of one of the nearby containers. Even through his work boot he could feel the sting. His ink was naturally green, which meant he wasn’t a fan of accidentally stumbling into puddles of orange ink, even if they were only a few inches across. 

He didn’t get why the kids were so crazed over their little weaponfest. If it were up to him, he’d stop the practice. It’s one thing for squiddos to play violent video games, but to actually go around splatting each other is a whole other business. The damn centennials in the workplace who had started the whole turf war craze a decade ago were nothing but trouble. He wasn’t looking forward to this generation. 

He trudged through the containers toward the port proper. At least the organizers of the war games were smart enough to keep the arena far enough from the water that no kid would accidentally fall in and splat himself unless he was actively an idiot. 

For most inkling adults, water wasn’t a problem. Sure enough, it rained all the time and even the kids were okay with that. The problem lay with bodies of water. Being made of mostly ink had its benefits, but it also meant that you could break apart in water if you weren’t careful. Adults tended to have enough self control to keep calm in water, managing to maintain their forms. Teens were another matter. They’re new to their bodies, and because of that often struggle with keeping their form when submerged. 

Every so often a story would show up on the news about some unfortunate squiddo who fell in the ocean and splatted without being connected to a respawn point. Sure their ink can be recovered and they can be reconstituted if they fell in at some populated area, but often they weren’t so lucky. Same thing used to happen even in bathtubs before ink filters became mandatory. Now if a kid was dumb at home you just had to drain the tub then they could reform. 

He scratched the respawn buoy on his back. The small life preserver would collect his ink if he ever accidentally splatted for whatever reason. It was mandatory for anyone who worked so close to the shore, even if they were old enough not to panic and splat themselves if they fell in; there’s still a good chunk of inklings who didn’t know how to swim outside of squid form, and turning into a squid in the water was a sure way to splat. Even some kids were now using them when working for Grizzco (don’t even get Adam started on how unethical he thought Mr. Grizz was for exploiting child labor). 

As Adam trudged along, his eyes fell on a splattering of turquoise ink near the edge of the water. With a frown, he approached it. He had only seen tiny drips of orange and purple ink earlier, perhaps some kid had snuck off from the fight before syncing up with one of the team colors?

He stood above the ink, looking down at it quizzically. It was strange. The splatter pattern looked almost like it had slowly flowed up from the water and onto the dock. The ink also looked strange up close. It was lumpy and thick, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say it almost looked striped, rippled through the turquoise with shades of green. 

He didn’t know why, but he found it unsettling. 

He was about to leave when he saw the ink slosh slightly, as if something was swimming through it. He frowned. No, it didn’t look like someone was swimming, it looked more like the ink itself was flowing up onto the dock proper. 

“What the...”

A voice in the back of his head was telling Adam that he should just leave the thing alone, but his curiosity was piqued. Gingerly, he extended a hand toward the goop. 

In a sudden burst of speed, the ink launched itself at Adam. 

Before he could react, the strange ink was upon him. 

\- - -

Martha smiled at her husband when he entered their house. 

“Adam dear, how was work? You’re almost in time for dinner. I’m just waiting for it to finish in the oven.”

Her husband didn’t bother taking off his work jacket. 

She frowned. He always took it off right away. He didn’t like how it felt. Same with the respawn buoy. Instead, he just stood there, staring at her. 

“Adam?”

She studied him. He looked strange. His ink was a paler green than usual. It almost looked like it was mixed with some other color and dulled. He gave her a smile, but it never reached his eyes. 

“Hello Martha.”

She frowned deeper, taking a slight step back, “you look sick, you feeling alright?” Something about him was creeping her out. This didn’t seem like her Adam. 

The smile remained plastered on his face as he slowly advanced toward her. “I feel wonderful. I am more than just me. So much more.”

“Adam, please stop. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

With a burst of speed, Adam closed the distance between them. With startling force, he planted a kiss on her lips. 

Only it wasn’t a kiss. 

Martha felt panic consume her as thick ink poured from his mouth into hers. She tried to pull away, she tried to shift into a squid. For some reason her body had stopped listening to her. 

She felt herself being ripped away from her own self, becoming a passive observer as her lips began to move and someone else spoke with her voice. 

“So easy to control. So feeble-minded.”

“She is stronger than Adam was.” It was her husband speaking, “his consciousness was snuffed out almost immediately.”

She felt herself speak, “this is true, though I believe she will he fully assimilated in only a matter of moments.”

Sure enough, Martha could feel herself fading. This... thing, whatever it was, it had taken control of her. It had become her, and soon there would be none of her left. 

Adam smiled. “Yes Martha, there will be none of you left. But you should rejoice. You will serve as a vessel for a superior life form.”

Fear gripped her heart. She felt herself say something, but it was muffled as she drifted off. She mentally clawed at the darkness, trying to stave off death as long as she could, but it was useless. 

Her last thought was of her sister, who was supposed to bring her children over tomorrow. She hoped for their sake that she didn’t. Or else whatever got her and her husband would get them too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so patient. This last semester had a lot of writing for me, so it was hard to find time to write this. Now that it’s summer I’m going to try and be more regular about posting, and at least give a heads up if I am gonna have to take another hiatus. 
> 
> Please feel free to comment. I absolutely love hearing what people think. It helps me a ton to motivate to write more. Plus I wanna know what parts or characters you like.


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